


To Lead a Horse to Water

by juuchan



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juuchan/pseuds/juuchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can lead a horse to water, but can you make it drink? (alternatively, a story in which good intentions succeed disastrously.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Lead a Horse to Water

**Author's Note:**

> This was written back in 2005/2006, so you'll have to ride the way way back machine to shortly after the timeskip (minor Akatsuki knowledge helps), and take the turn for AU road.
> 
> Also, this is strictly non linear in nature, and patterned after 10, 1, 9, 2, 8, 3, etc.
> 
> * * *

 

            In the East-Wind district of Konoha village, two ordinary men live in the top floor of a sand-yellow building near the ramen shop. She always passes one of them on her way to and from the ninja academy. Her classmates say he's one of the best genin team trainers, but she notices him because when he smiles she feels at ease, and he always asks her how class was.

            The other young man she hasn't seen much at all. Once, when she returned early from school, she saw him standing on the balcony railing. She remembers his moon-pale skin and eerie stillness, but mostly, she remembers what she thought were tears—twin spiraling seals over his closed eyes, trailing down his cheeks. She asked her parents what they were, and they looked at each other before saying, “Nothing important.”

           One mid-summer day during Godaime's last year, she sees the two of them leaping over the rooftops in the direction of the hokage's tower, hands linked in the way her parents expressly forbid her from doing with a boy. She doesn't really understand, though, because she sees her parents do the same when they're happy. After all, she thinks, happiness is an ordinary thing.

  


+

  


            The village of the Sand carries a distinctive smell for Naruto; it smells like the sun. The sun in Konoha is warm and life-giving, but here the sun bleaches and burns, eroding all that it touches with the passage of time—a fitting reflection of Gaara's village. Gaara smells of metal and salt, part sand, part blood, too deeply ingrained in his body to ever wash clean.

            Gaara is only talkative around him, though by Naruto's standards, he might as well be mute. They stand together, overlooking the bleak bluffs of the rebuilt sand village as Naruto talks and Gaara listens.

           “I can't blame you for pursuing him if it means you can justify your existence,” Gaara tells him after Naruto rambles about Konoha and the hag hokage, and how he couldn't have gotten this super-secret mission if it weren't for Gaara. Naruto wonders why he can't smile at the truth.

            Naruto's team arrives in Suna three days after Gaara sends out word of Akatsuki sightings, the same day his scouts narrow down the Akatsuki's location to the wind-shorn cliffs separating Wind and Earth Country. And most of all, what Naruto and Sakura have been waiting for: Sasuke is just a day behind the Akatsuki.

           At the prep meeting that Gaara calls, Neji asks Naruto, “You realize why Godaime sent you here, don't you?”

            “Of course,” Naruto nods with a grin as he pats his utility pack, “—to eliminate any threat to Konoha.”

            Gaara sees Neji pause and says pointedly, “You are a ninja of Konoha before anything else.”

            Secrecy is not Naruto's strong point, and Neji thinks it's a miracle whenever they managed to approach a target without being spotted. Naruto knows this, too; he might not be wearing his heart on a sleeve, but they all know the extra weight in his pack is Sasuke's headband.

  


-

  


            When even Tsunade can conceal her age no longer ( twenty years too early,  she thinks, but she's content with the knowledge that she'll die the only hokage in history to have bet against Death and win ), she notifies the council of her intent to search for a successor. They send over piles of dossiers, folders thick with reports of potential candidates. She whittles them down over the days until three remain. Her hand ghosts over the necklace she gave away years ago. She doesn't need to apologize for the things she has done, but she wants to.

            Tsunade doesn't inform Shizune, but her aide knows already. With the sake tray, she brings news that Team 7 has been called for.   

  


+

  


            The Black Ravine is a ragged, gaping chasm with a ribbon of swift-flowing water, but through Neji's seasoned eyes, it is a battleground, blistered by chakra imprints like trails of fire.

            “What do you see?” Sakura asks, her last syllables echoing across the empty space. She doesn't need Neji to see that a serpent was summoned here, gouging deep trenches across the sheer faces of stone. The powdered rock in the air makes breathing difficult, and the fractured shale is still sinking into the water. She clenches her fist in frustration, knowing they just missed the battle.

            “Southeast,” Neji relays tersely. “They're heading away along the border.”

            “But that means—”

            “Godaime needs to be informed.” Neji nods. “We're losing time. If we leave now, we can reach the fork before dusk.”

            They look to Naruto, even though Neji is technically the leader; he is standing on the surface of the river, staring up at the blue-white sliver of sky. Sakura expects him to be cursing loudly, making his silence all the more unsettling.  Visible red chakra simmers in a faint haze, and she starts to run toward him when he turns around. His face is stretched in a forced smile as he gives them a thumbs up: “So what are we waiting for? Let's go.”

            They all know there's nothing left in the Wind Country for the Akatsuki to take. The fastest way to the Fire Country, though, would be through Wind.

  


-

  


            For the first few months, Kakashi tells him, “It's not so bad now, eh?”

            When he walks over the flagstones of the old Uchiha ward, his feet lured by its memory and desolation, Kakashi stops him. “Don't go there. Even though it ties you down, it's a reason to live.”

            When he gets sick of Naruto's foolhardy tenacity, one idealistic rant after another, he makes it clear but Naruto never figures out what he did wrong. It happens once in a sun-sprayed plaza, because Naruto insists on dragging him to the crowded open market. He can hear them stepping away from him, the audible whispers of fear and surprise, and Naruto running up to grab him. He sends him flying into the fish stall; an ANBU blocks his next move, but it is the imaginary ache in his left shoulder that stops him.

            Kakashi tells him, “The council may or may not consider Naruto as a potential Hokage candidate because of you. You are his greatest liability.”

            Sasuke snarls in return, “They're the reason why Tsunade and Sakura did this to me.”

            Kakashi sighs. “No, you did that to yourself. ANBU guard you for your own sake, as well as the citizens'.”

            In theory, it should be clear, like the chakra theory Orochimaru taught him. But this is something he can't grasp no matter how hard he tries, and the fine threads between himself and Naruto, and maybe others, are a tangle under his fingertips that matches the snarl of chakra sealed within him.

            “Of course it's not,” Kakashi says. “You're just a dog that they neutered. They'll sing praises of your redemption, but it doesn't change who you are.”

           He doesn't deserve resolution, but maybe it is being granted to him, one unforgiving bit at a time; a little for his admission here, a little for his honesty there. Naruto doesn't like lies, but when Sasuke tells him of the truth of the battle at the gates of Konoha, he replies hours later, when they are both exhausted and hurting, “I'm still glad you're here, because people…they grow to accept things. Everyone can be redeemed in the end.”

           It's like being tied to the needle of a compass; if he goes astray, it will inevitably point out the right direction, and he has no choice but to follow.

           Sometimes he still dreams about Itachi, and he detests himself for this inextricable link with Naruto; he hates the fear of losing everything again.  Even though Naruto has long hidden away Itachi's necklace, muttering about throwing it out, he remembers the weight of its scars.

           Loss is common, gain is hard.

           “Everyone has that fear,” Kakashi reminds him. “What you have with your teammates, with Naruto—”

           “It's nothing.”

           “—is neither easy nor simple,” Kakashi continues smoothly. “But it is important. This isn't something you can just throw away, got it?”

           It's hard to get out, but he says, “Thank you.”

           It's cold outside in the predawn morning but not silent, and the morning din masks whatever reply there was.

           Sasuke has seen many sunrises, and knows how the first golden fingers break over the rooftops.  They miss his face, warmly grazing his bare shoulders. Naruto never rises this early, but as soon as he discovers Sasuke missing from the bed, he will groggily pull Sasuke back under the covers. Sasuke still doesn't understand why; it's not as if he has anywhere else to go.

  


+

  


           At the borderlands between Earth, Wind, and Fire country, Neji tells them to choose as they rest. The fastest way to Konoha is through the desert, the same way Sasuke will be taking to chase after the Akatsuki, but Godaime will have no warning if they pursue directly. Reaching the Sand village will take precious time, and slugs and frogs do not travel well in the desert, even in the cool night.

          “Follow Sasuke,” Naruto orders without hesitation. The campfire bathes his determined face in red-orange light.

          Sakura winces. “Naruto, sending a message by Gaara will be much faster.”

          “You've seen how devastating the Akatsuki can be,” Naruto pleads. “I can't let Konoha end up like Suna! We might even be able to convince Sasuke to work with us.”

           “Naruto has a point,” Neji concedes. “Right now, Konoha would not be able to recover from a heavy attack. We are very short on time.” He pauses and holds up a hand, signaling the presence of intruders. Three figures steal near, their fire-cast shadows slowly merging into a behemoth.

           “Yo,” Kakashi greets with a lazy wave. Behind him are two masked ANBU.

           “Ah!” Naruto cries out. “Kakashi! What are you  doing here?”

           Kakashi jerks a thumb behind him. “Escorts.”

           The shorter ANBU steps forward, wearing a rat mask. “By order of the Godaime, we are to move you to a secret location. Godaime and the council are fully aware of the Akatsuki's movements and request that you cease pursuit of Uchiha Sasuke.”

           “What? No way!” Naruto jumps up and the ANBU shift to defensive stances. “He's going to lead us to the Akatsuki, we might as well—”

           The taller ANBU, tengu-mask, interrupts him, “The council is aware of that and does not wish for you to engage the Akatsuki. It is our duty to ensure that you do not become even more of a liability.”

           Sakura feels a twist of unease in her stomach and pulls Naruto back. “Naruto is the only one who can match more than one Akatsuki member right now, and you want to pull him out of the fight?”

           “He has displayed a lack of control over his actions,” rat-mask declares. “The incident in Suna—”

           Naruto bristles at rat-mask's words, but it is Sakura who snarls, “You are not holding him responsible—”

           “Enough,” Kakashi interrupts them all. “Naruto needs to stay out of the Akatsuki's way. This is for your own good. Neji, Sakura, you two are coming with me back to the village. Naruto, you go with Yamato and Sai.”

           “No! What is this ‘duty' shit? If you were doing your damn duty, you'd be back at the village right now, defending it. Why can't I fight, huh? I can't let Konoha...I can't let that happen again. I won't!”

           “Naruto,” Kakashi sighs. “There's more going on than you know and more than I'm allowed to tell you. You're the only one I know who has the misfortune of everything being about you.”

           For a second, red flickers across Naruto's eyes and Neji twitches instinctively, an entirely useless impulse to shut off his chakra points, but it disappears before any of them can react.

           Neji is perfectly aware that there is only one person who can make Naruto do what he doesn't want to do, and that is the very person they're trying to drive him away from.        

  


-

  


            When they find out about Sakura's engagement, Naruto immediately demands that they all meet up at least one more time to celebrate the event. Sasuke grunts in acquiescence, and in the way things have been going with Naruto, that is precisely how he ends up pressed against the wall of the booth seat, Naruto pushing him this way and that while Sakura laughs until she can't breathe.

            When Sasuke finally shoves Naruto aside with a bony elbow to the throat, Sakura tells him, “It's nice to see you're not so lonely anymore.”          

            He wants to say, loneliness is what defines him, his invisible mark of distinction. How would she understand, when she has parents, friends, and a husband to be. But then, she's right in a way, because he is used to their presence, and whether or not he likes it, there will always be Naruto. “I'll die of stupidity living with this fool.”

            “For a guy who tries his damned hardest to be a jackass,” Naruto retorts, hooking his arm around Sasuke's shoulder, half affectionate, half playful, “he's surprisingly capable of holding a conversation.”

            Sasuke shrugs him off, folding his arms on the table. “Just order already.” He can feel Sakura staring at him and bows his head, feeling his bangs brush over his eyes. Naruto has started to flirt with the waitress, trying to get extra drinks for free.

            A hand touches his; it is Sakura, her fingertips calloused with chakra burns. Her touch says, “I still think you're beautiful,” tracing the lines of his palm; her touch says, “I still love you,” not at all hesitant but matured with the steady grace of a woman who knew her limitations.

            Sasuke considers pulling his hand away, but then Naruto barges in, placing his warm palm over theirs. Sasuke has never felt this weight before.

            “Team 7, always! Kakashi would be proud of us,” Naruto boasts. Sakura laughs and slips her hand away, leaving Naruto's hand clasping his.

            Sasuke waits, measuring the rhythm of Naruto's heartbeat until Sakura clears her throat. She tells him, voice low but steady, “The seal over your right eye is mine, the left one is Tsunade's. They last until the seal maker dies, or willfully removes it. Tsunade won't teach me how, but I can figure it out.”

            Sasuke's breath hitches and for a moment, he wonders what it would be like to have it all, to not feel like some cripple. Naruto's pulse quickens and his grip tightens; Sasuke is aware of so many things all at once. It is a feeling that brings him back to being thirteen and young, believing in things he would scoff at now, before Orochimaru laid his hands on him, before killing Itachi became more vitally important than his own existence, when he thought maybe, maybe that was what a family meant.

           That is not what he wants; to go back to what was would mean nothing had changed at all, and that all of these years culminating in his vengeance would have been a waste and a lie. The one constant he wants is to be acknowledged as an equal. The only time Naruto's knuckles graze his cheek is when he's slightly slow to dodge, the only kind of caress others see where he cannot.

           “It's okay,” Sasuke finally says to Sakura. “Congratulations on your engagement. I should be happy for you.”

  


+

  


            It takes exactly two hours for Naruto's escorts to figure out their communications aren't working like they should, and two more minutes for all three of them to figure out there are two Akatsuki waiting for them on the embankment of the river separating Konoha territory from the fringe districts of the capital of the Fire Country.

            “I should have bet with you,” one grumbles to his partner, “I could have made more money this way, since I still have to do all this work.”

            “I don't really care, you can have the money later,” the other replies, smoothing back his silver hair. “I do hope this will be a challenge though, maybe enough to even kill me.”

            “Freaks,” Naruto mutters under his breath.

            Tengu-mask holds up a finger to indicate silence. “This is bad.”

            Rat-mask pulls out a scroll. “Do you know their abilities?”

            “No.”

            “We have no choice. We'll have to test them.” Rat-mask unravels the scroll, brush and ink extracted from the center. His tension is palpable, even behind the mask.          

            “Boy, I'm guessing you're the container for the kyuubi?” the silver-haired Akatsuki calls out. “I wasn't there at Suna, but my god shall determine if you really are the container.”

            “I have a name, jerk-off, it's Naruto, got that?”

            “I've been blessed with a name too. It's Hidan.” His tone is borderline condescending. “Now boy, let's see if you are worthy of being my killer.”

            Naruto expects the triple-bladed scythe swinging at him and can almost time his movement. But he doesn't expect a tree branch snaking around his torso and dragging him flat on the ground, nor does he expect the sound of the scythe burying itself in the meter-thick ironwood that appears in front of him, its tip stopping just above his hair. He turns around to see tengu-mask releasing the spell that stopped him and the scythe. If he weren't so pissed off, he would think it's kind of cool.

            “What the hell, I would have been fine—”

            Tengu-mask points to the south. Before Naruto can push himself up, the grating voice he is far too familiar with speaks up: “My my, what a surprise, they sent you Kakuzu and…Hidan is it?”

            It's Orochimaru. But that's not what he sees. As he gets up on his hands and knees, he scans the treeline fading into the embankment, and has eyes only for Sasuke, as unreal as he remembers. His last memory of him is of the first time they met after Sasuke left him with a marked headband and crushed ribs, and maybe something else he doesn't name. It was sharp but fleeting, as though it never happened, a brief interlude in a chase through the underground caverns, his pale pale shoulders filling out his bleached white shirt, his eyes caustic and his voice smooth like a caress as he leaned into him.    

  


-

  


            The first time Sasuke and Naruto have sex, they map each other's bodies by the way of touch in the dark, colors and shapes bleeding into one another to suggest bodies and skin. They are not virgins: Naruto lost his on a summer night to an elegant lady Jiraiya handpicked himself; Sasuke lost his, among other things, to Orochimaru.

            Their first times do not compare to this, perhaps because nothing is clearer than in the darkness, their touch bringing into sharp relief the nature of their coupling. It is not clouded by perfume nor blurred by double-edged words, and that stark nakedness is most frightening of all. Sasuke's fingers read the hollows formed by muscle and sinew, tendon and bone, the ridges of old scars and knows which ones he caused. As he tongues open Naruto's mouth, he can feel the anticipation. His fingers catch on the cord around his neck, skimming Naruto's collarbone and down to the crystal pendant; he says nothing.

           Naruto slips a spit-slicked finger in him and doesn't ask at his lack of surprise; Sasuke does not ask why Naruto even knows what he is doing. Sasuke leans his forehead on Naruto's shoulder, aligning their erections in incremental movements; it feels like an eternity of elation, one wave at a time.

           Sasuke listens: a gasp, a hush, a breath, a moan, and their sounds are indistinguishable. Naruto is slightly unsteady, adding in a second finger and scissoring until he hits just the right spot; Sasuke stutters as he skims his fingers on Naruto's chest, trailing down the belly to palm where the spiral seal was. Naruto's teeth scrape over the spot where the heaven seal was; Sasuke hisses and presses closer against him. When Naruto slips in three fingers and Sasuke feels pain blending with pleasure, he shifts and pulls away. He pushes Naruto to sit on the bed with a kiss, nosing his way down to his groin to work on Naruto's cock with his mouth and tongue, one hand braced on his hip and the other fisting his own arousal. Naruto is never quiet, grunting and moaning, one hand at the back of Sasuke's neck, the other palming the sheets as his hips roll.

           Sasuke eases off with a wet pop, still smelling Naruto's musk. He's startled when Naruto grabs his shoulders and pushes him down on the bed, the instinct of combat carved into his bones, but after Naruto's fumbling and traded blows, he's being propped up and his legs spread apart. Naruto eases the tip into him, legs quivering, and the slow painful burn of penetration is enough to piss him off.

            “Hurry the fuck up,” Sasuke commands, because had it been Orochimaru— “Well, now, apprehensive?” Orochimaru never leers but still he finds his gaze unsettling as he straddles the man's hips and positions himself —at least he had the illusion of being in control. Naruto slams in after hesitating, like he finally understands, but it is not the whipcrack of pain that triggers his cold anger. It wells up inside of him as he urges Naruto on, “Goddamnit, harder, I won't fucking break,” digging nails and heels into his back.

           Naruto grunts, “Yeah, I wish you could.” Naruto has one hand palming his ass, the other curled around his cock and working in harsh strokes.

           He hears the wet slap of their bodies; he feels their syncopated heartbeats and the pendant thumping against his chest; he tastes Naruto on his tongue as he bites into the hollow of his neck. His rage seeps out through his body, a growl here and a scrape there, digging into the flesh until he knows they would both feel this tomorrow. Naruto's unexpected tenderness is the only arrhythmia in this act, and it lies imprinted in their bodies.

           Words will lie as people will lie, but bodies will always reveal the truth.

  


+

  


            The journey to Konoha is conducted in brief conversations, Kakashi laying out the basic plans. Six Akatsuki covered three countries' worth of territory in a week, and of course, Orochimaru is in pursuit, accompanied by Kabuto and Sasuke. The Akatsuki are presumed to be heading towards Konoha, under the assumption that Naruto and Tsunade are still in town.

            “They're either desperate or impatient,” Neji muses, “for so many to be out.”

            “The alliance thinks they've captured a significant number of the beasts. Naruto may or may not be the last one they want.  Not every beast was sealed, so there are no records.”

            “So, we're essentially working blindly.”

            Kakashi chuckles. “It could be worse. We could know nothing at all.”

            “Since Sasuke will probably be there as well,” Sakura starts hesitantly, “will he be considered our enemy too?”

            “Sakura,” Kakashi tells her in his teaching voice, “we can't count on Sasuke helping us. No one knows what Orochimaru is really thinking. Naruto thinks optimistically, but we have to be prepared for the worst.”

            “If Tsunade knew this, why would she send us out to Suna then?” It frustrates Sakura how pointless the whole situation seems. “She could have sent us as far away as possible.”

            “We received this information after you were sent out. There was an Oto spy in Konoha. We made the best use of our resources, so to say. You guys will be assigned with me, so stay alive.” Underneath his black humor, Kakashi's tone is almost resigned, as though he too feels the futility of the situation.

            Sakura wants to say many things, will Naruto be okay, I hope Sasuke fights on our side, will we be able to survive , but they all seem so selfish and childish. She's sixteen going on seventeen, already an adult by their standards. She should be past all this. She looks at Neji and sees pasts his impassive face. He is afraid—they all are—but his resolve is unwavering.

           When you become a ninja, you make a pledge to defend your village, to represent the crest you wear, and uphold the foundations of what you are. She knows this, and knows too the myriad ways in which duty conflicts with emotions. But the choice she makes has to be the one that benefits Konoha in the end.

            Maybe Naruto is rubbing off on her more than just a little. She wants to see a Konoha where Naruto is the Hokage, and Sasuke has returned to their side; she wants to share Naruto's dream too.

           She can only say, “I have faith in Konoha. We have survived worse.”

  


-

  


            They settle into an awkward rhythm, not getting into each other's way. At first, they are confused, waking at separate times and avoiding each other's paths. Naruto gets up late while Sasuke rises early; Sasuke trains in the lonely forest he knows by touch while Naruto brawls in the training commons where everyone knows him by sound.

           An ANBU drops by the first of every month to check on Sasuke's seal, because the first time Sakura came by, she almost broke his jaw. Naruto tells her Sasuke will get over it soon, but Sakura gives him a faint smile and says it's okay. Sakura isn't a quitter; being a medic, she recognizes all forms of pain.

           When Tsunade finally okays visitors, their peers come to see him and maybe Sasuke too. It's hard to tell sometimes, because talking to Sasuke is like talking to a brooding wall. People don't call him a traitor; for them, he is someone who saved the village. Even Lee displays a modicum of self-restraint, reminding him that as the foremost taijutsu user, he would always be around for sparring.

            They still fight easily, instigated by overreactions and unanswerable questions. It hurts more than either of them expects, their wounds still raw. Naruto doesn't understand Sasuke's sullen broodiness, and no matter how much he asks with fists and kicks, Sasuke matches him blow for blow and doesn't say; Naruto thinks maybe this is the answer, the code that ninjas understand each other by.

            It is six months later when the final treaty has been soaked in blood and sealed by honor, a rainy day that traps them inside and a sour tension that incites them to fight. Naruto always wants to push him down and clamp on so tight, Sasuke could never leave again. He doesn't understand why Sasuke is still so angry, so bitter despite getting what he wanted, but then Sasuke tells him, “You want to know why I hate you? Because I have something to lose now.”

            He doesn't understand that, but he does understand the warmth pressed against his hip. Curious, Naruto brings his hand down and grazes Sasuke's groin. They jolt apart, torn between surprise and fear; this time, Naruto can't fault Sasuke as the door swings ajar and there is no one else in the room.  

            Naruto spends most of the day throwing out the broken furniture and watching the squads limp home as ANBU slink about until he can't stand it anymore. He asks Sai where Sasuke went, but Sai pulls back his rat-mask and raises an eyebrow, saying he's technically not on guard duty anymore. Naruto is left to stare at the dreary sky that imprisons the village, and ultimately concludes that being alone may be the worst way to die. The pieces slowly fall together.

           He visits Iruka to talk until night falls and returns to find Sasuke slumped soaked against the door. He briefly considers leaving him outside, but then Sasuke might get sick, and Tsunade will ask him what good of a ninja he is if he can't even take care of his own teammate. So, Naruto hauls his scrawny ass inside and attempts to cook dinner like Sakura taught him. The dinner is thrown out, but that night, Naruto waits while Sasuke finds his way into his bed. Sasuke's questioning fingers chart only the scars and lines of his face and Naruto won't say no. Naruto thinks maybe, as he strokes the back of Sasuke's neck to the cadence of his slow and steady heartbeat, this could work out.

  


+

  


           As his escorts fight on the opposite bank of the river, forests rife with demon tigers springing up where there used to be rock, Naruto is fairly sure the whole fight wasn't an illusion. The pain reflected on him from where the Hidan guy stabbed himself had been enough to make him want to pass out, only the kyuubi snarling in the back of his mind keeping him conscious and heal him.

            But Naruto can't figure out why Orochimaru is helping them, why Sasuke looks at him like he is  there. Watching Orochimaru slide the ring off Hidan's stiffening fingers with almost loving reverence bothers him in the way slow torture used to, a creeping sensation over his body and mind because it's wrong, it's all very wrong. Orochimaru should have no reason to help him, and with him, there's always a catch, something that Naruto will invariably trip over.

            He knows Sasuke acknowledges his existence, but he's not sure if it's anything more than that; it hurts more than he expects. So when Sasuke is suddenly in his face, his hand on his arm, his eyes black and red and every bit as hard as he remembers, close enough to bring back the memories of years gone by, something snaps and he snarls, “Are you really Sasuke? Or is it just Orochimaru trying to fuck with me, ‘cause Sasuke was never good enough to kill an Akatsuki.”

            As Sasuke shoves him to the ground, punching him hard enough to break his jaw, and it gives Naruto some measure of happiness. Sasuke has gotten stronger, faster, even better than he remembers but still—he struggles, hitting him back as he clutches Sasuke's thick black pants, reveling in the concrete sensation that Sasuke is there, is real, and a heavy weight on top of him, and he's not Orochimaru. He wants nothing more than to beat the shit out of him and he can , he'll do it even it means kicking and scream— something soft brushes his ear. He freezes. It throws him when he figures out it's Sasuke's lips, because fuck, Sasuke might as well be Orochimaru with the way he's acting.

            “You're just as stupid as I remember,” Sasuke tells him in the same low voice as before, pressing down against his chest. “I should have killed you then, I should just kill you now.”

            Naruto wants to say, “Bullshit, you didn't kill me then and you won't kill me now,” but his jaw burns as it heals and he can't summon the will to say it. He can't even tell when Sasuke is being honest anymore.

            “Now now Sasuke, you need some rest after that,” Orochimaru reprimands sharply. He looks across the river and clucks his tongue. “That weasel Kakuzu is running, but Kabuto will catch him. Come Sasuke, we should be going. We don't want to be late, after all.”

            Sasuke lets go and gets off Naruto in a motion that is too smooth and practiced, and entirely too obedient.

            “They think I'm in Konoha,” Naruto says when Sasuke turns his back on him. “Your brother's there. We can go together—”

            “They'll be destroying Konoha looking for you,” Sasuke replies, something resembling jealousy in his voice.

            “Oh, you should bring him,” Orochimaru goads Sasuke sweetly, “he could be a good distraction.”

            “He's a useless good-for-nothing.” Sasuke refuses. “I will kill Itachi on my own terms.  No distractions.”

            Orochimaru arches a painted eyebrow. His expression shifts into one that makes Naruto's skin crawl, so Naruto jerks away. When he turns back, they are gone.

            Shit shit shit, if he doesn't chase after them now, he'll never have this chance again.         

           “I'm going back to Konoha,” he announces when his ANBU escorts crawl out of the river, dripping wet but mostly intact. “You can try to stop me, or you can help me.”

            Tengu-mask sighs.  “Naruto, I can't let you.”

            He bites his lip, wondering what it would take to make the man twitch.  “Tsunade gave me a mission statement, and that was to eliminate threats to Konoha. I won't let her down.  If there's nothing left to protect, what are we?  We wouldn't even deserve the title of Konoha's ninja.”

            And, Naruto allows himself to believe, get Sasuke back.  Naruto has to believe that he can get Sasuke back before Orochimaru takes over, and believe that they can save the village together. He's sure if he had just a little more time, one more sentence, one more punch to the face, one more honest proclamation, that would do it.  Because if he hadn't believed it, he wouldn't have survived this long at all.

 

-

  


           They keep Sasuke in the most secluded wing of the hospital ward, his room hidden by genjutsu for his own sake. After two weeks of nagging, Tsunade reluctantly grants permission for Naruto to visit, but with stern reminders that he can't heal like he used to.

           The first time he visits, the ANBU undo five wards to let him through; by the time they're done, Naruto's tense enough to scratch at the nonexistent seal on his belly. When Naruto walks into Sasuke's room, he's overwhelmed by the stark, empty surroundings, stripped of all potentially lethal tools and properties. There is a simple cot, a sandalwood stool, and then there is Sasuke, a seated silhouette against the narrow barred window. It reminds Naruto of a snake basking in the sun, soaking in one rectangular shaft of light at a time until it deigns to move.

           There are too many things he wants to say, and nothing seems to filter out between his lips.  After a few minutes of silence, Sasuke draws up one leg to acknowledge his presence and says flatly, “You certainly don't reek of fox anymore.”

           Everything else fades away; Naruto's anger flares up. “You should be grateful, you idiot. Didn't Orochimaru even teach you how to thank people who saved your life?”

           “Who said I wanted to be saved?”

           Even though he had known it already, it somehow hits him in a way all the other losses haven't. He'd never asked if Sasuke wanted to be saved, from the first day to the last, wanting to believe that Sasuke did, but—but it's the same as running away, not wanting to be saved, it's the same as refusing to deal with things. He doesn't know what to say that could possibly get through, so he walks over and punches Sasuke in the face, or tries to. Sasuke catches his fist and Naruto twists out of his grip as his fingers dislocate, huffing “Bastard!” before leaving. 

           The second time Naruto visits, after he told Sakura what happened and sported a handprint on his face to show for it, the ANBU don't bother with so many wards. Sasuke is meditating cross-legged when he walks in, and like many things about Sasuke, it inexplicably pisses him off.

           “Sakura says I should give you a chance.” Naruto sighs. “She's giving you too much credit.  Don't worry, you're still a bastard.”

           Silence.

            “What else did Orochimaru teach you the art of besides being an asshole without doing anything at all?  Oh wait, he didn't need to teach you that, you already knew.”  

            “Your ability to be annoying is astounding,” Sasuke replies absently. “I should be dead.  I wanted  to die.”

           “Sakura nearly killed herself trying to save you.” Naruto glowers, leaning down to grab Sasuke by the loose folds of his hospital gown. “You might want to appreciate that.”

            Sasuke turns away as he snaps his hand around Naruto's wrist in a vise grip, his voice carrying a rare inflection of panic. “Appreciate what? This? ”

           Naruto is perfectly aware of Sasuke's bitterness, but Sasuke has no right to complain. He says, “Not everything is only about you.  You're not the only one who's suffered a loss.”

           A long silence stretches between them as Sasuke says nothing. Sasuke releases his hold, simultaneously shoving him away. A loud rip rings in his ears; he is left with a long strip of Sasuke's robe.  The wide gape provides a view of Sasuke's belly, and the outline of a horizontal scar.  He resists the urge to clutch his chest where a similar scar lies, and wonders if Sasuke has the same permanent ache that even Tsunade couldn't get rid of. 

           He leaves, because his throat runs dry and he has no words.

           Later, rubbing the piece of cloth between his fingers and wearing another of Sakura's bruises, Naruto will say to Kakashi's grave marker, the same as everyone else's, “Hey, it was an improvement. We had a conversation.”

           The third time Naruto visits, he figures Sasuke, if nothing else, must be going insane from boredom. He tries to empathize, but it doesn't mean he understands.

           “I don't get it,” Naruto tells him, “what are you so obsessed with? You don't have any more excuses. Itachi's dead, you fucking killed Orochimaru yourself, what—”

            Naruto remembers right before Sasuke lunges at him that Sasuke doesn't need chakra to be scarily fast, and adjusts his own movement just in time to spin them both around. He winds up back to the sun-filled window and sees Sasuke's face clearly for the first time after—after everything .

           Sasuke's eyelids are decorated with two five element seals. Visible remnants of a modified eight trigram seal trace a path from his lashes to his cheeks, falling like flat tears. Something cringes inside of Naruto because he knows, he knows  what it feels like to bear that stigma, and yet he thinks it's not fair at all how Sasuke makes it look beautiful.

            “Stop staring you idiot,” Sasuke reminds him. “I know you're gawking.”

            Naruto works his jaws once, twice, and stammers, “S-shut up! I didn't think—I just wanted—it wasn't supposed to happen, not like this!” He reaches out hesitantly, his finger absently tracing the curve of the seal down his cheek. His fingers inexplicably follow the natural path to his lips; Sasuke slaps his hand away while he thinks, it's soft . There's no surprise in Sasuke's actions, only the quick burn of anger.

           “I don't need  your pity,” Sasuke hisses at him. “You never think at all. I killed Itachi, I killed Orochimaru, what reason do I have left to live? People are annoyances, complications.  If it wasn't for you—”

           “Fuck that!” Naruto shouts at him.  It comes rushing out, never in the way he wants but always means: “What are we then, huh? What's this meaningless village you returned to, that you saved? What's our team, huh? I don't care what you have, you're what I  have. Fine, don't wear the Konoha emblem, but you're one of us! Don't you feel anything at all?  I couldn't let you die, not alone! You better live for Sakura, for me, and…especially Kakashi.” He chokes out the last word, and damnit, his nose is stuffing up and he's got tears in his eyes.

           “Kakashi was the only one I would have thanked,” Sasuke says slowly, completely restrained. “He might have understood.”

           “Goddamnit Sasuke,” Naruto blurts out, his voice thick with phlegm. “If you just bothered telling us, we might understand. All of us. Don't you get it? Or do I need to beat you some more to get that stick out of your ass?”

           His words echo off the bleached walls, distorting to the last syllable, ass , until Sasuke's lips slowly twist in a smirk. “You don't have the fox anymore, dumbass. You're still not good enough to beat me even right now.”

            It's a strange feeling for Naruto, to be crying and smiling at the same time.

  


+

  


            There are very few things Tsunade fears, and the Akatsuki is not one of them. She is wary of them, each individual as dangerous as she is, but not afraid of them. What she is afraid for is the well-being of the village.

            She had made this decision long ago when she chained herself to the role of being the Hokage, but when she faces four Akatsuki at her village's doorstep, three jounin bodies already scattered, the vulnerability of her ties becomes a stark reality.

            “Ah, Tsunade,” Itachi speaks just loud enough to hear. “This is convenient.”

            “If it's Naruto you want, I believe it would be inconvenient.” Tsunade snorts. It's almost a relief in a way, four is better than six to deal with. “I'm afraid we're not very hospitable.”

            Behind the massive Konoha gate, the jounin are massing. They are not an army but they are the best. At the very least, the pigeon had already delivered to her Jiraiya's message, saying he'll be there as fast as he can. It's later than she wants, but it'll have to be good enough for what she needs.

            “Well, we don't ask for much ma'am,” Kisame tells her, tugging at the wrappings around his blade. “The boy we can find, but first I would oblige you to hand over your necklace.” His teammates stand scattered lazily, but she can tell they are poised to strike.

            Shizune's kunai clack between her fingers, but Tsunade pushes her back with one hand. Tsunade knows what the Akatsuki have come for, and signals the ANBU units to prepare.

            “Why would you want a cursed necklace?” she bluffs. “One would think you're trying to help me out here, asking for something that'll certainly bring your death.”

            “All the more to oblige you then, ma'am.”

            The sharp mark of a teleportation technique almost brings her to signal the attack, but her instincts stop her. Amidst the leaves, she can see the pale blank eyes of a Hyuuga, the bright pink hair of her disciple, and the borrowed Sharingan of a jounin.

            “I hope we're not late,” Kakashi apologizes obliquely.

            Her smile is strained when she whispers, “Stall them. Jiraiya is coming.”

            And to the rest of the defenders, she has already told them, “Get them as far away from the village as you can.”

  


-

  


            When his guards lead him out of his hospital cell, he faintly wonders if it will be an execution or another interrogation. They both smelled the same, of blood and metal boiled with hatred.  But it is neither; instead, he is led through many corridors and up many stairs, stopping after a good twenty minutes. Given the distance, altitude, and concentration of chakra and killing intent, he knows he is surrounded by ANBU at the Hokage's tower.

            “You're lucky,” someone finally speaks to him. He recognizes the lazy voice as Shikamaru's, knowing him only by association and scattered memories. “You've got little to worry about.”

            Sasuke says nothing.

            “But personally, if I were you, I'd think it's all one big hassle over someone who doesn't even want to be a ninja of the Leaf.” Shikamaru sighs. “And as for what you did, well, I think Kiba summed it up best. ‘I'll respect the Uchiha enough not to spit on his grave.' You know what I mean?”

            He doesn't, and he doesn't care; they march him into another room, this time leaving him. Judging by the smell of herbs, animal parts, and the must of old scrolls, he must be standing before the Hokage.

            “I would say it's nice to see you weren't a complete waste,” Godaime starts. “But you were trained by Orochimaru, and I know him too well. Still, between you and Orochimaru, the council finds it better taste to de-villainize you.”

            “Hardly a reason to keep me alive.”

            “Kabuto's been sighted leading raids on our borders from the north, and Kiri is infiltrating our undermanned outposts in the west. We lost more than half of our jounin in the defense squadron when the Akatsuki came, most of the bodies mangled because of your goddamn snake.” Her last words are punctuated with the crunch of her fist meeting wood; a desk perhaps, from the sound of something collapsing. “You know the cells planted in Konoha, and yet you wouldn't say.  But really? …It's because I can't let Naruto die.”

            Surprise flickers across his face. “What does that have to do with me?”

            Tsunade paces, her heels a sharp staccato on the floor. “You Uchihas have always been ridiculously stupid. Your Sharingan would have been the death of you. He asked me to save you.  I could have said no; your death might have been better for him.  But Naruto would never see it that way.  What a price we all paid.”

            “The seal on my eyes are—”

            “Restriction seals on chakra usage, balanced by the binding seal for the kyuubi, because lucky you, your chakra naturally counters the damned fox, when it's not bleeding out of your eyes. Appreciate your friends, Sasuke, they will do what Orochimaru would never consider. Sakura nearly didn't have enough chakra to finish one of the seals, and she knew that when she said yes.” She has walked up to his face and her tone is hard; he is well aware of its implications. “Listen well. Because Naruto is still tied to the kyuubi, if you die, he will die. I won't have a student of mine risk her life like that, and I won't have someone I regard like a son die like that.”

            Orochimaru told him once what his theory on the sealing of the demon beasts was. It usually takes a great sacrifice, such a human soul or more, to seal a beast into a human being. To change a human vessel means the original host would be sacrificed, or perhaps —at this, Orochimaru's tone had been venomous— a bargain with the death god, such as years of the caster's life . It was one of the few theories Orochimaru was reluctant to test out.

         “I think you're an idiot, honestly, but they believed in you all that time, believed in you to the very end,” Tsunade says.  Her tone softens. “I know Orochimaru, and you won't be him, no matter how you try. They still care about you, and you should return that favor. You saving the village doesn't have to be a lie, you can still do something to help save it.”

            He can still walk away; he can still feel nothing about all of this. “I gain nothing from it.”

            “You have nothing to lose right now.” Tsunade pauses and he doesn't respond. “You can volunteer the information, or I will  get it out of you.” Her threat is implicit; only a healer would know the torture of staying alive. “I'm not going to lose this village now, not after surviving this. When we get what we want, you'll be reintegrated into the town as civilian, maybe even as a redeemed hero, with the shadow of an ANBU. You might even get a babysitter, if you want.”

            The prospect makes him want to laugh until the bitterness fills his mouth, dry as cotton across his tongue.  “Naruto asked you to save me,” he finally muses after a long silence. “You listen to him.  Does it even matter what I want?”

            “Want and need are different things.” Tsunade sighs. “Naruto knows about the kyuubi, but not everything else.”  The sound of metal chains clinks from her direction; the heavy weight of a necklace is forced into his hands.  “You have responsibilities now, too.  Whether or not you accept them is your choice.”

           His fingers follow the ridges in the scarred metal, his mind registering its shape: it is Itachi's necklace.  “You hate me,” he states flatly.

           “Consider it a token of gratitude for killing Orochimaru, and not even leaving a body for us to bury.”

            “And my brother's body?” he asks.

            “Gone,” she replies, “but you and I both know, we can never truly be free.”

        

+

  


           Kakashi knows he is running out of time when Itachi throws down Naruto with the ease of tossing a lump of clay, the borrowed chakra of the kyuubi having no effect at all. Sasuke is pulling himself out of the charred remains of the north Konoha gate, shaking off the debris.

            The Akatsuki figured out too quickly that the squads were drawing them away from the village and turned their momentum towards Konoha.  The aerial bomber Deidara, as he remembered from the Suna battle, was especially hard to stop, until Orochimaru and Sasuke showed up.  The former Sannin member stopped Deidara just before the village walls and Kakashi's own ex-pupil chased down the masked Akatsuki that appeared to be Deidara's partner.

            When Naruto appeared shortly after Orochimaru and Sasuke, his arrival punctuated by an ambush on Sasuke's target, Kakashi made a mental note to later reprimand Yamato and Sai for disobeying orders, if they survived.  A combination of wood binds and a Rasengan that made it one down, three to go in the Akatsuki count, but the death had drawn Itachi and Kisame's attention; they barreled through the squads when they realized where Naruto was.  The surviving members of the squads reassembled, splitting off once Tsunade reassigned directives.

            The main problem now is that while less invincible alone, Gai having lured Kisame away, Itachi would know all of the tricks Kakashi has. Sakura and Neji had almost gotten their ambush off, but Itachi reacted too quickly from having a chakra point cut off and neatly evaded a punch that would have killed lesser jounin. As for Naruto, he is just as predictable as Sasuke, too easy for Itachi to read. The only advantage Naruto has is raw power, and that is proving to be not much of one.

            There's a slight gap in his defenses when Itachi locks down Naruto with a ground bind and crouches down near the boy, his back open to approach. But before he can get there, the kyuubi's chakra explodes, tossing him backwards as it expands blood-red in the midday light. Naruto can handle a couple holes in his body; the kyuubi heals them right away. So when he realizes Naruto isn't struggling, isn't even moving at all, his gut twists.

            “Sakura,” he orders over the voice com system, “relay to Tsunade, evacuate the northern block, kyuubi might be loose.”

            She acknowledges it.

           Itachi is fractionally slower to respond to his attacks, his chakra-reinforced strength notably lessening in his blows. His techniques haven't slowed, but their effectiveness has marginally diminished, enough for Kakashi to suspect that Itachi is exerting most of his effort elsewhere. The kyuubi's aura is oppressively hot, but not out of control; it's almost as if Itachi is suppressing it.

            He just wishes he could work with  Sasuke instead of having to watch out for the boy's blade, nearly getting eviscerated from a slash.

            “Out of the way!” Sasuke snarls as they disengage. His curse seal is running rampant, spilling over his body like a disease.

            “It's almost touching, the last three bearers of the Sharingan together like some sort of reunion,” Itachi says. “But I would prefer it if you just watched while I break my useless brother.”

            Sasuke growls, plunging his blade into the ground in a fit of rage. “I'm going to kill you with my hands, brother .”

           Kakashi frowns. “Sasuke, he's just goading you.”

            “I know,” is the reply, Sasuke feigning calmness. “If you can't help me, then stay out of the way.”

            As he watches the curse seal engulf Sasuke, he's torn between marveling at Sasuke's growth and mastery of chakra, and despairing at seeing it so recklessly used. On his earpiece, he hears Neji warn him that Deidara's circling the village again and Kisame is suffocating several jounin in some sort of water cage. Still no sign of Jiraiya. Ah, time, time is always against him.

            Sasuke attacks again, his hand seals fast enough that it strains Kakashi's Sharingan to watch it. He recognizes it as a modified variation of the Chidori, distributing an electrical charge all over the body. It lacks the killing speed, but it can be highly effective at immobilization, if his hits connect. Itachi dodges everything and slips through his defense, shoving a chakra-charged fist into his solar plexus.  Sasuke tumbles but makes the barest indication of pain, carving ruts into the ground as he struggles to stabilize and stand.

            “Really Sasuke, what's the point of having a jutsu when you can't even connect,” Itachi mocks.

            Watching Itachi's feet makes him realize that Itachi hasn't moved far from where he immobilized Naruto, which means he probably can't leave Naruto.  Ah, a vulnerability he can capitalize on.

            He cuts his palm with a kunai and slips out his scroll, performing the summoning jutsu. The entire dog pack appears, Pakkun visibly distressed.

            “What's going on?”

            “I need you to follow Itachi,” Kakashi whispers discreetly, “in hiding, and when he's more than three meters from Naruto, immobilize him.”

            “Uh, I'm not sure how long we can hold him.”

            “It's fine, I just need about three seconds.”

            Pakkun looks at him solemnly. “Are you sure?”

            “I know what I'm doing.” He waves it off.

            “As if that makes me comfortable.”

            Kakashi shoos them away, watching as Sasuke recovers and recharges. Probability is perpetually against him, but he still has one last trick Itachi would probably never expect. He's not sure how effective it will be, but if Sasuke works with him, they had a good chance.  Sasuke is certainly irrational about Itachi, but he bets one doesn't survive being Orochimaru's student for four years without learning a few things.

            “Get ready.” He winks at Sasuke, knowing Sasuke is watching him peripherally.

            He prepares not his Raikiri, but a shadow clone instead as the fine bird-hum of electricity grows louder.  The hounds disappear in whimpers the moment they touch Itachi, but it's enough of a distraction for Kakashi to send in the clone first, and then himself.  Even so, Kakashi's best angle is from the front as he tries to lock down Itachi's arms.

           “You can't be that stupid,” Itachi hisses with more anger that Kakashi expected, “you pretender to the Sharingan.”

            It is almost intimate as they struggle to grab each other's chins, forcing which way to turn; when their eyes meet, it's like rape.  At first it's only a pinprick, as he struggles to counter with his own Mangekyou, but in the milliseconds he has to realize what happened, he recognizes all too well the familiar pain of taking a kunai to the chest.

            Well, shit .

           His world lurches as Itachi throws him aside, but he can see that Sasuke doesn't hesitate to strike.

  


-

  


           The day Sasuke wakes up, Naruto is annoying his nurses and Sakura is checking on the last of the in-patients.

            No one knew what Sasuke could do in his sleep, so when they finally ease up on the sedatives, it is the ANBU guards who are the first to know. The news trickles down the hospital staff, though Godaime is the first of them to be informed.

           When Naruto overhears the nurses gossiping, he tears the IV out of his hand and takes one wobbling step at a time, determined to get to Sasuke's room. Despite hurting all over, he's never been more elated. It takes two jounin and a genjutsu to force him back to sleep.

           Sakura, though, no one tries to stop, not when she barges into Sasuke's room, stopping a foot away from the boy-turned-man. The ANBU watches as she reaches out and hesitates, her brows quivering as the vivacity in her face drains away and her mouth falls into a hard line.

           “Sasuke,” she whispers.

           Sasuke's face is on the verge of panic, his hands clenched over his lap. Her voice wipes his face of all expression, before he slowly turns in her direction. “Sakura?” It carries a rare inflection of vulnerability.

           She reaches out again, fingers timidly hovering over the seals on his face. Her hand drops dead at the next question: “Where's Naruto?”

           “Sleeping,” she replies brightly, her eyes downcast even as she forces herself to smile. “He's still recovering.” She pauses. “How are you feeling?”

           “My heaven's seal is gone,” he announces, working his left shoulder. “Did Kakashi do this? Or…”

           Sakura's voice is unsteady when she says, “Kakashi…he passed away from battle injuries.”

           “How did he die?” Sasuke's voice is devoid of inflection.

           “A puncture wound in the aorta,” she recites hollowly, because it may not be the truth, but it isn't a lie.

           “Ah.” His voice is too level for the ANBU's liking, and they pull Sakura away slowly. “Why am I here? Why can't I see?”

           “I'm really sorry Sasuke,” Sakura says; she wants to say more, but she has to settle for this. “I didn't think it would be—we had no other choices—but, I wanted you to live. Naruto wanted you to live. Kakashi would have wanted you to live. I thought...you wanted to live, too.”

           The silence swells until it feels as if it could burst the room.  Slowly and quietly, he says, “Don't presume to know what I want, Sakura.”

           The ANBU have seen it all. They accompany her out of the room and tell her that emotions are what make people irrational. There's no point in regretting all this; she can only make the best out of it.

  


+

  


           It is as if time itself has slowed so he can see it when Itachi casts aside Kakashi's body with a motion nothing less than perfect: the best opportunity he has, Itachi's unavoidable opening, with the whisper of Orochimaru's training in his ear. He strikes, thrusting forward with the current of his Chidori running through his body, coalescing in his hand.

            _My body is a weapon, scarred by your hand._

            Itachi turns slightly to face him, and for a heartbeat, they can only see each other.

            Itachi's eyes lock with his own and nothing nothing nothing  else matters as his defense crumbles and he tumbles into the illusion again. The white night and the black moon, the creeping twist in his stomach as he approaches what he has seen many times before. The air is heavy with the reek of iron and rot; his brother stands tangled in bits and pieces of people's organs, close and far all the same.

            “Hello little brother.”

           Every word is punctuated with excruciating pain, weighing him down until he can't stand. He crawls, yelping like a small dog, “I'm going to kill you, I swear I'm going to kill you!” Even to his ears, it sounds pathetic.

           “You disappoint me little brother,” Itachi chastises. “You should have killed the boy when you had the chance.”

            “I'm not you!” His anger flares up again, just enough to overpower the pain, but the illusion still holds; no matter how much he tries to move, everything is so far away. “I do this on my own terms!”

           “You never had your own choices.” His brother stands just out of reach. “What a waste, betrayal and hate, even going to Orochimaru, and yet, you've only come this far.”

           A thousand denials die on his lips. He drags himself up, forcing his body to obey his mind, seeing nothing else but that familiar face.  These years, the severance of his bonds, the detachment from comfort and familiarity, he can't let them all be for nothing.  This, he promised himself when he left Konoha; he has no other reason to live.

           He wants his brother back; he wants his brother dead.  He doesn't care that his fury blinds him as long as it gives him the means to fight. “I'll show you what I can do.  I walk my own path!  I will do this on my own terms!”

           He charges at Itachi with a Chidori, faintly aware of his physical body in the same act, the crackling of electricity fracturing the edges of the illusion. Bones break, his momentum too strong to slow, and the world bleeds red and black with the Sharingan of his brother's eyes.

           “Weak,” his brother mumbles and the light in his eyes is gone. “I…”

           Drip.

           His arm is wet.

           Drip.

           It's so cold, even within the kyuubi's oppressive aura.

           Drip.

           There is tissue lodged under his nails, something twitching between his fingers, and the deep crimson of his brother's blood.

           And it's slowly

           leaking 

           out

  


 ø

  


           There's enough pain to make Naruto wish he hadn't come to. It's even stronger than the burn of the kyuubi's power, every breath feeling like broken glass, and something distinctively hard is digging into his ribs. The tip of a bloodied blade protrudes into his vision. Slowly, over the span of a few precious seconds, he realizes Sasuke is draped over him, impaled on Orochimaru's sword.

         The bastard can't be dead , he thinks, craning his neck to watch for the most minute movement of breath, he better not be dead after all this.

            “Naruto!”

            They're calling his name in the distance, seemingly far away until blood-soaked sandals come into his vision. He can't keep up the strain and lets his head fall back. Someone drags Sasuke off him and hands roll him over onto his side. From the corner of his eye, he can spot blonde and pink hair.

            “Naruto! What's—you're not healing.  Quick, I need two extra medics, his chakra is dropping.” It's Tsunade and her hands, hands wrinkled with folds and knuckles bulging with veins.

           “Sasuke,” he strains out, “bastard's…alive. Heal him.”

            There's buzzing in the background, too many people talking and arguing, and more hands that push him this way and that. He can hear Jiraiya's booming voice in the background, yelling “You fools!” Tsunade shouts back and forth, turning and giving commands. There's another pair of hands on his chest preparing seals; he grabs a wrist and knows it's Sakura.

           Naruto pushes at her hands: “Save him first, I won't die yet.”

           “Naruto,” she tells him as if she were forced to drink hemlock, “they refused to heal him. They won't let me.”

           Naruto spots Tsunade's dirtied heels and tugs at her ankle, until she drops next to him to hear him mutter: “What is this shit old lady, you can't let him die.”

           Her face drops into his line of sight, all of her face aged with strain save her eyes. Her eyes are hard gems and glowing unnaturally, infused with years of chakra. She glances over him, staring at the seal on his stomach. “Don't go off yet Naruto, I'm not sure what that Uchiha did, but…something between the fox and him…”

           “Just heal him,” he croaks.

           She purses her wrinkled lips and says, “He may have done something right, and letting him die in peace is easiest.” She refuses to meet his eyes.

           “He's going to live.” And I won't let him die alone .

           “If he lives…Naruto,” she tells him slowly, “you might not.” Her fingertips burn his skin with the touch of chakra, grazing his belly. “I refuse to lose another member of this village.”

           He thinks he might understand, but he knows that all things come with a price. He shakily clamps his hands around her wrist, pulling it away from him. The motion strains him, his coughs bringing up blood; his body is unfamiliar with handling these injuries. “I'm gonna be Hokage, Tsunade,” he says, “because you're doing a damn shitty job. I told you, I'd get Sasuke back before I become Hokage. That's my resolve. He—we—Sasuke is a member of the village to us, you get it?”

           He is more than that, but Naruto can't find the words.

  


ø

  


            Is this it?

            Sasuke has never thought past killing Itachi. He always believed it would grant him some great epiphany. He should— should  feel like he has achieved something, but it feels more like he screeched to a halt at the end of the tunnel and found it to be where he started. His father can't praise him, his mother can't smile; he still remembers. The sky, immeasurably wide and limitless, holds nothing in its infinite reach.

           As his heaven's seal recedes, emptiness swells down from his face, sweeping across his body like ice. Slowly, ever so slowly, he recognizes that something has fractured, like the haunting memory of lightning striking from the heavens, an instant that splits apart the sky in plumes of purple and white before disappearing completely.

           The damage is already done.

           He realizes that once he's completed his goal, he has no focus left. The absence of an objective is startling, enough to scare him, because he doesn't recognize this feeling at all.

           Naruto's screams seem faint and distant, though the ground trembles right in front of him as the kyuubi is released, its blood red chakra enveloping Naruto. Sasuke nearly falls as he clutches his left arm, its shooting pain telling him the seal is exacting its price.  A brief assessment tells him his ribs are also cracked, but it doesn't matter now.

           When he finally pays attention to Naruto, something changes in his vision; Naruto wears the kyuubi's chakra like some slick shadow, his own body buried, but beyond the wavering tails, Sasuke can see its true power boiling, menace manifested in spiritual form, rolling off in waves like forests being toppled.  Behind the fox-shaped Naruto, where four tails are distinctively visible, his Sharingan lets him see the other five, spread out like the flames of a fire.

           A long time ago, a greater part of him had screamed out, asking where Naruto was under all that killing intent. He thought he had crushed it since, but it returns again, a fly buzzing in his ear, asking and begging, pleading with the ignorance of a child's emotions. His training fights against his instinct, arguing to think and reason when his body is screaming to react. Orochimaru always told him that his instincts of self-preservation were remarkable for someone as single-minded as he. Sasuke had taken it as a compliment then.

           “Well well,” Orochimaru remarks from a distance, “isn't that a sight?”

            Sasuke turns his eyes to his master, about to tell him off, when he sees what he has never seen before: a patchwork shell of a man, like an overused blanket, his chakra rising like hesitant steam and warping about him as though afraid to touch its physical form. Orochimaru is more powerful than he will ever let on; his chakra spins about his hands in thick ropes like so many vipers poised to strike. Yet, his soul is an emaciated beast consuming parts of itself as remnants of other souls take their places, struggling to stay rooted to the body that is slowly withering away. It repulses him on a basic level; he has no desire to be a piece of that grotesque tapestry, and now, no need .

            But, does it even matter? His brother's body lies next to him, as empty as the subjects Kabuto finished experimenting on. You're done , you're done done done done and now he can never hurt anyone else. It's that easy.

           The kyuubi lashes out, one nebulous chakra-claw splitting open the ground. Orochimaru dodges, grabbing Itachi's body and scattering another corpse. He's after the ring, of course, but the kyuubi—

            —he locks eyes with Naruto, and it is the kyuubi's narrow slitted pupils he peers into. It's easy, so easy to activate his genjutsu and—

            Something burns with a dark fire, the air reeking of sulfur. The only thing he can see is an immense looming gate before him, blackened with ash. He can see no visible limits of space and yet he can't shake the feeling of being confined. A gargantuan fox peers out from the other side, two wide nostrils pressed against the grating almost comically.

            This must be Naruto's mind.

            “If it isn't the Uchiha boy,” the kyuubi mocks.  Its breath reeks. “You're out of place.”

            “Sasuke?” Naruto stands at the gate, a bewildered expression on his face. His hands are bleeding, imprints of his fist scattered on the solid base of the gate. “What…why are you here?”

            “You're the demon fox?” he asks the kyuubi, ignoring Naruto. “I expected you to be bigger.”

            “Your mind can't fathom what I am,” the kyuubi sneers, showing off its teeth. “But what can your feeble mind understand, now that your brother is dead?”

            He doesn't answer because the kyuubi is right: he has no answer. Staring at the fox, he realizes they are on the wrong side of the gate—the fox is on the outside, and they are trapped behind it.

            “What? For real? That's great Sasuke! You can be done with it, you can be free—”

            “So?”

            Naruto pauses, stares, and hits him in the face.  He expects the action, but not the pain.  This—this isn't supposed to be real. “So? So?! How can you say that? Don't you understand, this means you don't have to let Orochimaru take you; you don't need to betray the village. You can come back, we can be a team again—”

            “No.” How can Naruto think things will be the same again, that he would want to go back to the past? “I have no reason to.”

            “Indeed, little Uchiha.” The kyuubi sounds amused. “It is better if your cursed line ends with you.”

           He's already known that since long ago.  What does it matter now, if Orochimaru takes his body?  He hesitates, finally registering that he doesn't have to—he doesn't have to do anything .

            He narrows his eyes, reaching out to touch the kyuubi's nose. It's not real—none of this is real—but he can see the threads of chakra that weave together to form its shape, and how easy it is to tear through it.

            “Sasuke!” Naruto grabs his hand, pulling him away from the kyuubi. “I promised everyone I would bring you back, because…it's important, okay? You don't need a reason, it's your home! Konoha will always be your home!”

            _Home_ , he bristles. He tries to pull his hand away, Naruto's touch sticky with blood; it's disconcerting how his own illusion feels so real, when there's so little that is. “What is home?” he sneers. “It's just a word that people make up, trying to give meaning to their unfulfilling lives. It's a justification for being rooted to the same place, unable to be free, unable to do what they want.”

            Naruto's mouth is set in a hard line, an expression that has matured over these years. Sasuke watches as Naruto digs through his illusionary utility pack and holds up a Konoha headband, a single line gouged through its symbol. Even in the weak light, its polished surface reflects Naruto's eyes, and the same determination from four years ago.

           “It's yours,” Naruto says. “You left it. If you don't care about this village at all, then put it on.”

           “It's not real,” he mutters.

           “I don't care! Tell me you don't have any bonds at all! Otherwise, I know you're lying. You said it yourself, right? I'm your best friend, and while I don't know how you think, I might know how you feel. You can't possibly feel comfortable around Orochimaru…and loneliness—being alone isn't something that can't be fixed. It's…it's how hard you try. That's why…I want you back.”

           He's almost forgotten that sentiment, the word “friend,” lost in a village where he trusted no one, not even himself. To be alone defined him, but to find others who cared meant something then, and might still mean something now.

           He has a choice.

           He grabs the headband, willing it to bleed away. “I guess since you spent all this time chasing me, I should only return the favor. But, these symbols and signs, they're just pieces of sentimentality.”

           The kyuubi laughs.  “That stupidity runs in your bloodline, bearer of the fan crest.  What do you think you can do?” Giant claws rip through the air, cutting above them as they duck and tumble.

           The pain starts behind his eyes and swells; it becomes harder and harder to hold the illusion in place. He can see the kyuubi, and he pushes it away, wanting it to just disappear . He can feel it with his chakra, the effort as strenuous as crushing a rock with his hands, but the kyuubi's image dissipates and its laughter bubbles up. He can suppress most of its chakra, but its presence seems ubiquitous, infinite in its reserves.

           “Incredible.  You're strong,” it almost sings, “but you won't kill me.”

           “Naruto,” he asks, “can you try to regain control?”

           “I've been trying, you dumbass. You being in my mind doesn't fucking help.”

           “Then try harder, or else it's not the Akatsuki that's going to destroy Konoha, it's going to be you.”

            He dispels the genjutsu before Naruto can snap off a retort, and finds himself on his back, and Naruto passed out a couple meters away. The northern city walls are noticeably damaged, scored with triple claw marks and burned. The kyuubi is suppressed, but it's making it difficult for him to concentrate. He scours the landscape and can't find Orochimaru in sight, but his chakra tells him he's fairly close.

           He can't reason to himself why he is doing this, why he even cares, but maybe that's the whole point.  It's not as if anything matters.

           An explosion ripples through the air as Deidara's massive clay bird plummets from above the village into the three gates of Rashomon. The bomb slows as it tears apart the first two, finally halting at the third, its smoke brushing the rooftops of Konoha as villagers shriek and run.

           The only reason Orochimaru has to save the village now, Sasuke knows, is that he is possessive enough that he would destroy Konoha himself before anyone else did it.  He can see his master's black summoning chakra in the distance, roiling in anticipation of something else.

           It takes Sasuke a precious moment to appreciate what Orochimaru is doing, a few more as he rushes through the summoning jutsu, refusing to miss a seal though his hands are slick with sweat, and he almost slips on the contract scroll.  He knows he's faster than Orochimaru, but keeping the kyuubi under control is killing his precision.

           Sasuke slaps his bloody hand down after the final seal and Manda appears with a huge gust of displaced air, its impressive mass looming before him, hissing loudly. “How dare you summon me! What is this?” It leers, “You are not Orochimaru. You are…his.”

           He stares down the giant serpent, unflinching even as its forked tongue flicks out to taste his scent.   A dozen possibilities run through his mind, but he can't explain why he settles for this: “Obey me, Manda. Get rid of Deidara, avoid damaging the city.” He points at the bird in the sky. “In exchange, I will offer you Orochimaru as a sacrifice. That should be sufficient.”

           Manda laughs, the motion rippling through its body. It uncurls and curls before replying, “What an arrogant brat you are. If it weren't for your eyes, I would eat you and laugh. Orochimaru…chooses his students well. I know your type, brat, and your contract with me won't last long.”

           “As if I wanted it to last.”

           Manda laughs one more time before deigning to move, streaking off with unnerving speed. In its wake, it carves a path in what's left of the forest, scales digging wide grooves and crushing the bodies that lie strewn about.

           Sasuke is hemorrhaging chakra to keep the kyuubi suppressed, an immense pressure building behind his eyes. Yet, he can't risk closing his eyes, or turning his back as he retrieves his sword. Orochimaru is speeding towards him. He can feel the outrage when his master stops a good distance away from him.

           “You are certainly my student,” Orochimaru assesses with barely restrained anger, “a backstabbing boy indeed. And here I thought you wanted to be my vessel.” His tongue elongates and splits open to reveal the Kusanagi.

           Sasuke doesn't tremble as he brandishes his blade. This is not a foreign emotion to him: utter disdain. “You knew I never wanted part of your dream. I was a tool to you, as you were to me.”

           Each step is more difficult than the last in his exhaustion; Orochimaru knows him, knows him to every twist, swing, and parry. It's irritating to see Orochimaru's every future step, and yet his body struggles to react. The blade cuts into his sleeve when his block is the slightest bit slow, his spin too slow to stop it from biting into his side. The ensuing slash cuts through his robes, jaggedly grazing his chest as he stops it and reverses its direction.

           “Your body can't sustain this kind of chakra use,” Orochimaru chides him. “You're just going to die.”

           “So?” Parry, counter, dodge—his momentum carries him too far, and can't balance when Orochimaru cuts into his left shoulder. He has perfect clarity; it's everything else that is falling apart. His breath is fracturing, stilted and frantic, his hands refusing to grip the sword hilt as tightly as they should. He can taste the mixture of salt and metal on his lips, and denies the fear from his pounding heart.

           “You were always stupid.” Orochimaru's smile is more unsettling than ever. “Now that Itachi's dead, you still have one great weakness.”

           His Sharingan calculates: Naruto, but his body screams no. He can't feel or think, only react. He is slow, still too slow; Orochimaru's black blade stabs through the kyuubi's chakra, cutting into Naruto's lungs. He intercepts at the hilt, locking their swords so Orochimaru can't twist the blade.  Sasuke's control snaps as the kyuubi screeches; its chakra flares out of Naruto, hurling them apart. His blood-slicked hilt flies out of his hands, but Orochimaru still has a grip on the Kusanagi.

           In the distance, Sasuke can hear Manda's movement: one, two, three, growing closer with every thump. He turns to face Orochimaru, hands folding into the jutsu that Orochimaru never finished teaching him, but was entirely too easy to figure out. He's beginning to lose his main peripheral vision, though his Sharingan is stronger than ever, feeding him more sensory information than ever before.  The battlefield is alive in a riot of color, Orochimaru the blackest star framed by the kyuubi's blood red aura.

           “You wouldn't dare!” Orochimaru lunges, face contorted into a visage as ugly as his soul. A fresh wash of pain tells him the Kusanagi has pierced him clean through. Keeping the kyuubi suppressed is a lost cause; he alters his hand seal at the last second, locking eyes with Orochimaru. His Sharingan is draining more chakra than he can spare, but it's worth it to see Orochimaru frozen in place, his yellow eyes fixed in the rare expression of fear. Sasuke stumbles backwards, yanking the Kusanagi out of Orochimaru's hands as Manda emerges. I hate that snake , he thinks, as Manda's wide maw snaps open and wraps its tongue around Orochimaru. Yet Orochimaru makes no movement at all as he disappears into its mouth; Manda's jaws slam shut, the faint rippling of muscles down its belly the last trace of Orochimaru.  

           Sasuke knows he didn't have the chakra to transfix Orochimaru for that long.

           “Your payment is…accepted,” it hisses contentedly. “Let's see what you can offer next time…if you stay alive.”

           Sasuke collapses to his knees when Manda disappears, reflexively pressing against the sword in his belly as best as he can. He doesn't care for the next time and lets his body slump.  His mouth is flat with the taste of iron, feeling dry under the coat of blood. _Thirst._

           “What did you DO?” Sasuke whips his head around to the direction of the sound, finding the kyuubi approaching him. Something is off, something about the kyuubi's spirit is lacking— “You cursed Uchiha, what did you DO to me?”

           Sasuke closes his eyes, half out of exhaustion, half out of necessity. He finds that he can't stop his Sharingan. One way or another, he's going to bleed to death.

           The kyuubi grabs him by the throat, hauling up him.  “Look at me Uchiha, look at me! You used my chakra and now my tails—”

           He can feel claws cutting into his cheek and the inhuman crush against his throat. When he opens his eyes, Naruto's face crowds into his, eyes so close he can almost count the streaks of the iris. It takes him longer this time to activate his genjutsu; this time, only Naruto greets him.

           “What's going on?” Naruto asks, eyes wide in panic.

           “Where's the kyuubi?” He ignores the question.

           “After you left, I nearly had it. But all of a sudden, something hurt, something hurt so badly, I lost control.”

           “You stupid brat,” the kyuubi's disembodied voice bellows, “you and your brother—how dare you tie me to your bloodline!  You know not of your ignorance, foolish child, but you will!”

           “What, what's he talking about?”

           Sasuke frowns, the throbbing behind his eyes increasing with every second that the kyuubi's presence swirls around him, unable to manifest even a spiritual form. He really wishes he knew what he had done—it feels like he's drowning in a muddy stream, the presence of so much chakra dragging him under.  A sip of water might be nice right now.

           The environment wavers, hazing in and out. He can no longer maintain the illusion, his physical body bleeding itself away. He stumbles; Naruto catches his arm.  None of this is real, but it seems natural that only Naruto's wide blue eyes are still sharp, staring at his face.

           “Sasuke, what's going on? You're not…you're fading.”

           Do others see this clarity when they have nothing else left? “You don't have to worry about Orochimaru anymore,” Sasuke tells Naruto, watching his own reflection dissipate. “And maybe not the kyuubi either.”

           “What?”

           Strangely, it doesn't bother him that every one of his senses is fading, until he is left in the dark with only the faint sensation of someone holding him.  It reminds him of home, but that too is an illusion. 

           Naruto never listens to him, but for once, he would like to have a choice. 

           “Let me go.”

           That unknown feeling before, when the wide sky had opened up before him in its emptiness, it was a fleeting moment of freedom.


End file.
